An Unlikely Asset
by AgentStrange
Summary: When Vaughn, Sydney and the rest of the gang investigate the murder of a Russian diplomat, they get more than they bargained for from the prime suspect. Please read and review!
1. Introductions

**Summary:** When Vaughn and Sydney investigate the murder of a Russian diplomat, they get more than they bargained for from the prime suspect.

**Rating:** PG-13

Hey! K I've never done a non-Shippy fic but Cole emailed me with an idea for a fic, and we collaborated and created this story! The characters and plot are all his idea- I wrote it throwing in a few thoughts and suggestions here and there. He made the skeleton and I padded it out and helped it walk...okay that's enough metaphors... but yeah this is written for Cole- I hope you like it, enjoy and please let us know what you think!

* * *

Vaughn clicked his pen distractedly as he sat in the conference room waiting for the meeting to begin. It was early evening and he wanted to get home, tired of the amount of work he had been given over the past few weeks. It seemed terrorists were not as considerate to tired CIA operatives as they should be, him at the rest of the operations team sometimes involved in two or three independent projects at once. He looked at his watch: 6.36pm. He sighed letting his arm fall to his side; he caught Sydney's eye- she gave him a small and warming smile, which was quickly cut short. The meeting had begun. 

"Nineteen hours ago," Dixon said, his voice dripping with objectivity "A Russian diplomat and informant to the CIA was murdered outside the Russian embassy fourteen miles away."

"Who was the diplomat?" Sydney politely interjected into the small pause

"Elijah Molinsky." Dixon replied clicking the small device in his hand with his thumb. A picture of a grey haired man appeared on the screen. It was a standard CIA photo, the likes of which all the occupants of the room were familiar with. The man had mature and gentle features, his face friendly. "Some of you, Jack in particular may recognise him from around the offices or previous cases. His death is a great loss to this agency- he aided us in the arrest of no less than seven high ranking members of the Russian Mafia and also helped to coordinate an operation in 1991 where the embassy was targeted by terrorists."

"Any leads on his killers?" Eric asked restlessly, sick of all the negativity they had to deal with in their lives. Dixon shook his head

"It appears he was a victim of gang violence- the attack seeming spontaneous and even clumsy. This leaves us with the implication Molinsky was not targeted by those he helped to imprison or even political rebels, but he was just a man who was in the wrong place in the wrong time who also happened to be an extremely valuable asset to the Central Intelligence Agency. It is still unclear who exactly was in the mob and what their motives were if they even had any."

"Do you have any leads at all?" Vaughn asked frustrated at the sluggish pace of the meeting

"Yes actually" there was another metallic click followed by a second photograph "Luckily for the gang members, the murder occurred out of the surveillance equipments' range in what now appears to be a blind spot." There was a collective sigh from the room "However" Dixon continued with a hint of optimism "Security cameras from across the street did manage to pick up the face of one participant- unfortunately the poor quality of the images and the fact the attack took place at eleven in the evening have hindered our investigation substantially, and as of yet we have not managed to make a positive identification of the male pictured." Vaughn squinted slightly trying to piece together any suggestion of features of the person pictures in the grainy blue image but stopped as Dixon cleared the picture from the screen. "Frustratingly, this is the only lead we have and unless we can somehow tidy this image, we have nothing"

"Er, Mr Dixon, Sir- I might be able to help you with the- can I um?" he stood as he spoke as he addressed his colleague as if as student speaking to a teacher. He turned to face the other patient occupants of the room as if addressing a class "...because I still have the program that helped us identify Lazaray's killer...which was you...Syd" He said turning to Sydney who tried her best not to laugh at the bumbling man's awkwardness "well it wasn't you it was Julia... Thorne I mean Miss Thorne... er Miss Julia Thorne...which was actually you- well it was you just not Sydney you it was a different you like...did I ever tell you a relation of mine had schizophrenia... well he was like a second cousin... twice removed actually...not that you have...or had... er?"

"Marshall" Dixon interjected as Vaughn started laughing quietly. He ruffled through his papers trying not to draw attention to his amusement. He glanced at Sydney who gave him a humoured look

"I, yes- I can tidy up that image no problem- just whip in up free of charge! Well technically its not because I get paid...but-"

"How long?" Jack spoke for the first time. Marshall squinted looking up at the ceiling momentarily

"Uh judging by the quality of the image- I'd say eight hours"

"Right then, get to work- it's going to be a long night Marshall. The rest of you- see you tomorrow"

"I uh" Marshall started quietly as the others stood quickly leaving the room. Vaughn and Sydney were the only ones remaining, both of which offered the man sympathetic glances

"You ok Marshall?" Sydney asked gently, placing her hand on his arm. She tilted her head slightly

"Yer, I- its just...Carrie's going to kill me. We were suppose to go out to that Sushi place tonight and I'm going to have to cancel"

"I'm sure she'll understand Marshall" Vaughn offered kindly

"Do you want anything- a coffee or a sandwich- we can go get you one if you like" Said Sydney causing a gentle and genuine smile from the men in the room, both in admiration of her caring generosity and kindness.

"No thanks Syd, I have my gummy bears to keep me company." He joked

"Okay well we'll see you tomorrow?" Vaughn asked grabbing his jacket from the back his chair, handing Sydney the file she had left at the desk

"Sure"

"Okay bye Marshall" Sydney said giving his arm a small squeeze. Vaughn held the door for her as she left and he gave them a small wave. Marshall was left alone in the silent complexity of the room, tired and alone.

Vaughn and Sydney walked down the corridor towards the elevator that would take them to the car park.

"Poor Marshall" Sydney sighed

"I know. It's bad enough pulling an all-nighter, but an all-nighter on your own? That sucks."

They reached cool steel doors, grabbing the small plastic tubes from their containers. They placed them in the holes in the wall blowing into them. Individually, their eyes darted to the small computers as their names and photos flashed up on the separate plasma screens.

"Goodbye Agent Bristow"

"Goodbye Agent Vaughn" The metallic voices spoke almost simultaneously

"You know that still creeps me out" Vaughn joked as the doors closed. Sydney laughed

"What you doing this evening?" she asked

"Eating and then sleeping...I'm gonna record the hockey- I'm way to tired"

"Wow you must be tired" she joked as the doors opened. "It's not like you to miss the Kings getting their asses kicked"

"That's cute" he teased "Night Syd"

"Yeah. Night. See you tomorrow Vaughn" with that the agents parted

* * *

Jack coughed loudly trying to get the attention of the man; there was no response. He rolled his eyes slightly 

"Marshall" he spoke seeing him stir slightly- apparently the sound of his superior's voice combined with the irritating beeping of the computer failed to wake him.

"Marshall!"

"Ah!" Marshall half screamed as he quickly sat upright. He placed his hand to his forehead, feeling the imprint of the keyboard carved into his flesh, "Sorry Agent Bristow sir, I-"

"Is the image finished?" Marshall quickly typed against his keyboard, nervous under the stare of the mature agent

"Um...yes. Yes it's complete"

"Good. Well bring it straight to the meeting room- everyone is waiting for you" and with that he left

"What?" Marshall asked quietly looking as his watch: 9.02am. His eyes went wide as he jumped from his chair trying to keep his balance as he walked to wards the door, grabbing his jacket for the coat hook. He walked through the rotunda quickly, smoothing his hair as pressing his nose to the side of his underarms.

He gave the disk to Dixon who put it into the drive of the computer in his office. "Uh yeah...the image had been cleaned and as soon as you put in into the computer it'll search every facial database the country has and hopefully give you a match. It should take about five minutes."

"Excellent. Thank you Marshall. We appreciate the work you have done." Marshall nodded tiredly, and turned to leave.

"Sir can I go home now?" he asked as if a frustrated child

"We just need you to stay for the next meeting and then you are free to go." Marshall nodded leaving for the meeting room

He entered slowly sitting heavily in the chair. He accepted the smiles from his colleagues looking back at the CIA logo rotating on the screen through bloodshot eyes.

Weiss, Sydney and Vaughn talked amongst themselves laughing quietly; Jack flicked through paper work throwing disproving glanced every now then as their laughter filled the room. They kindly left Marshall to his coma of exhaustion until Dixon entered ten minutes later.

"We have his identity," Dixon said as he came through the door. All agents looked at him, morphing into professionals within seconds. The man clicked the image up onto the screen- a mug shot from an ordinary police station. The attacker held up a black placard reading his name and identification number "Jake Taylor- a member of a violent street gang who have ingeniously named themselves 'The Brotherhood'." The group studied the photo, his angry hazel eyes burning into Vaughn's. His hair was deliberately messy, coming down just to his eyebrows; it was becoming slightly wavy with its length. He shook his head as he noted the gesture Jake offered the camera down by his placard "For months they have terrorised parts of downtown and L.A mainly specialising in arson, theft, vandalism, assault, possession, intent to sell- to name but a few-"

"Sir he's just a kid!" Vaughn half shouted across the room, louder than he wanted

"Yes thank you agent Vaughn, I think we all noticed that" Jack deadpanned

"Dixon, seriously, how old is he? 17, 18?" Sydney asked "He's 16. Caucasian, 5'11, arrested in May 2005 for underage drinking and again in early 2006 for possession of a class C drug. It is yet unclear just where he comes from and what exactly his role is within The Brotherhood. Sydney. Vaughn. This one you'll be happy to hear is a simple recon mission" he said tossing over the beige folders "We need you to intercept and bring Taylor in from the address specified in the folders, sources indicate this is where several members of the same gang wash and cloth themselves, stealing from other patrons of the centre itself. It's a simple acquisition operation, nothing you two can't handle. You are both on point, Eric-"

"Yes Sir?"

"You're on back up if its required"

"Is everyone clear?"

"Yes Sir" the room collectively spoke

"Sydney, Vaughn...one more thing. A kid or not, it is possible Taylor is armed and a threat, and while he may appear young and vulnerable you must remember he is a member of a dangerous and temperamental band of wanted men and convicted felons. When you approach him it is possible he may attack, and he too may have backup. Don't underestimate him or let your guard down at any time- watch your backs"

"I'm sure it's nothing we can't handle"

* * *

He lay on his back staring at the poorly painted ceiling, the fumes of his joint coiling into the air above him. He threw it onto the floor arching his back slightly as he exhaled his last drag. The boy turned his head to the side as the door to the locker room creaked open; he flicked his head trying to move the dark brown hair that grazing his forehead. A man walked in, looking at him briefly. The boy simply swivelled on the bench, turning his back to him, not bothered about the man, he had learnt after all how to handle himself and what could a man in a suit possibly know? He bent to tie the dirty grey laces of his blue converse, the ragged hems of his jeans curling under their rubber souls. 

"Hello Jake" spoke a cool voice. Jake's busy fingers froze entwined in the dirty laces. He released his hands and slowly sat up, facing the lockers, his body still away from the man. There was a stagnant silence

"How the hell do you know my name?" Jake said turning to face him "Who the fuck are you?" he demanded, glaring at the man through his fringe. His head snapped towards the door as a woman entered

"Hey your not allowed to be in here, this is the men's locker room get out!" The woman rolled her eyes and stood behind the opposite bench where the man sat. She folded her arms and leant against a locker

"We know a lot about you Jake. Who you are. Where you've been" There was a slight pause "What you've done"

"We?" Jake scoffed

"Yes. 'We'" The woman responded

"And who's that then? Pathetic Over Thirty's anonymous?" Jake jeered

"Try CIA" The man spoke throwing his wallet onto the kid's lap. The boy was still for a second until he bolted from his seat. The man and the woman grabbed his shoulders pushing him back down onto the bench where he smacked into the lockers behind him with a metallic rattle.

"There are five other agents outside waiting to take you in Mr Taylor. And as for us two, we both have guns, we are both quicker than you, and we are both smarter than you. So I suggest you stay where you are for the time being." Vaughn spoke quietly, his fist gripping Jake's leather jacket preventing him from moving. The man let go watching Jake shrugging violently from his grasp, straightening his jacket with a few convulsions of the shoulders. He leant back against the cold steel containers, eyeing the pair with darting dark and angry pupils. The boy reached into his pocket watching the pair shift slightly in anticipation of what he was going to remove. He snorted a laugh and shook his head pulling a lighter from his pocket, removing the cigarette from behind his ear. With his left hand he thumbed the metal clasp of the lighter, shielding the flame with his right. A chime echoed against the grimy tiles of the empty room; he again flicked his head moving his hair from his forehead. The smell of tobacco and the fluid of the lighter congealing together in the fluorescent light of the locker room, stinging Jake's nostrils.

"So your big scary CIA agents huh?" the pair made no response "What are your names then?" he taunted, looking at the woman with a livid curiosity.

"We'll be asking the questions Jake" she spoke only to be quickly interrupted by the man who Jake assumed to be her partner

"Micheal" Vaughn answered, looking at the boy with a challenging glance "And that's Sydney" Jake laughed inhaling the obnoxious fumes from his cigarette

"Your names suck" he sneered

"They're certainly no better than Jake" Sydney retorted causing a small laugh from Vaughn who still looked at the young man. He could tell he was beginning to intimidate him

"So...Mike...is it ok if I call you Mike, Mike?"

"I would prefer-"

"Mike it is then. So Mike are we gonna talk or what?"

"Fine by me" Vaughn replied matching Jake's almost humoured tone "Talk away"

"Ah no...its alright. Talking is really not my thing come to think of it. I'm a very shy person you see, and mommy always told me not to speak to strangers" Sydney raised her eyebrow at his insolence. Jake sighed dramatically

"Bored now...you know if you're the best the country has to offer, I have to tell you I'm a little worried about public safety Mikey- oh its ok if I call you Mikey right?" There was no reply "So. You gonna arrest me?" Jake said leaning forwards, adding in a whisper "Or are we gonna just sit here and play I Spy?"

"That's how you wanna play it? Fine with me" Vaughn said keeping his tone as indifferent as possible. There was something in the pool of angered hazel in Jake's eyes that reminded him of something- he couldn't quite grasp what was. His eye line darted to the cigarette slowly burning between Jake's pale fingers and he looked down at the floor momentarily. He removed is handcuffs, tossing his gun to Sydney who caught it a held it at her side "Jake Alexander Taylor, you are under arrest for the assault and murder of Elijah Molinsky on the 8th March of this year. You have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, what you say can be used against you in a court of law. You do not the right to consult with an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, that's just tough shit as you will be detained under the Patriot Act as an Enemy of the State and interrogated by Central Intelligence Operatives" Jake smirked at Vaughn's words, an almost untraceable suggestion of fear leaking through his features. His shoulder blades dug into the aggressive surface of the locker as nodded his head and exhaled a silver layer of smoke, throwing the cigarette onto the floor. He slowly stood and offered his wrists to the agent infront of him. As Vaughn leant to place the steal bracelets around his wrists, Jake threw his fists into the air, smacking Vaughn in the brow. He yelped and fell backwards against the lockers, clutching at his eye socket. Jake ran in the opposite direction darting between the lockers and disappearing into the darkened reassesses of the room.

"Are you ok?" Sydney breathed bending down to Vaughn. He nodded his hand still clasping his forehead

"I'm fine. Go!" Sydney took off, her gun in her hand. She knew the boy was somewhere in the now perspiring room, the beads of condensation clinging to the grimy tiles. She kept her back to the rows of steal boxes; she could hear him breathing, his heavy pants radiating from the corners of the room. Sydney sidestepped along the cool metallic surface, her gun raised parallel to her body. There were no bullets in the gun- of course Jake didn't need to know that.

"Come on Jake- this is ridiculous. You can't run forever," she shouted

"Yeah well running has been working for me just fine thanks" She swivelled in the direction of the voice, her gun reaching out in front of her. She spun around at an empty clatter, hearing quick footfalls. She turned the corner to see Jake running down the gap in the lockers

"Freeze!" Jake turned his head as he ran smiling back at her- taunting the agent. However this amusement was cut short as a hand grabbed at his ankle, causing him to tumble onto the floor. He slid on the dampness of the tiles, grazing along its cold greasy surface and coming face to face with Vaughn

"Now that wasn't very clever- was it?"


	2. Reflections

Okay...so here goes chapter two of this little experiment. Again thanks to Cole for okaying the chapter and also to **Agent Boucle D'or** for another of your very kind reviews. Also to my anonymous reviewers **s** and **me** thankyou for reading and reviewing Hope you enjoy...please please le me know what you think! love Dani xxx

* * *

Jake Taylor sat back into the greyish plastic of the chair staring moodily at the mirror infront of him. He casually raised his hand to his own reflection knowing full well the agent on the other side could see his aggressive gesture. He laughed quietly flicking the hair that irritated his brow with his thumb, reaching in his jacket pocket for his lighter. Remembering they had confiscated it as he entered the building he reached into his front jean pocket pulling out a packet of matches he had swiped from a hotel he used to pickpocket the occasional businessman. He smirked visualising the look on their middle aged faces as he grabbed the cigarette behind his ear and lit it with one scratch of the irritated match against the table infront of him. 

Vaughn stood directly infront of the adolescent, a mirrored partition separating them. His arms were folded across his body as he watched the boy with interest.

"What do you think?" Sydney asked quietly. Vaughn turned round smiling gently- he hadn't even realised she had entered the room

"I don't know" he sighed looking back at Jake through the large window "He's clearly hiding something" Vaughn stated as he leant on the desk behind him

"Clearly" she agreed, perching beside him "I think also he's more scared than he's letting on"

"Definitely" There was silence for a second

"Where the hell did he get that cigarette from?"

"God knows," he said, a small laugh escaping him. There was something about the boy before him that felt very familiar, not that he was going to tell Sydney that of course. He eyed the clothes the teenager was wearing frowning slightly- grubby jeans, a stained blue hoody, worn leather jacket, tired looking blue converse. Maybe the kid's life was harder than they had assumed.

Jake slid down in his chair, stretching his legs out before him as the cigarette dangled lifelessly in between his fingers. The ash glowed as it occasionally sliced through the cool air of the room falling to the floor with a slight hiss. He winced as he moved remembering he events of the last few hours and the pain that was adamantly linked to the memory. He reached his hand up behind him, hissing as his fingers pressed into the bruise on his shoulder blade formed by the woman agent as she pinned him down with her knee. Jake couldn't remember what she looked like; he only remembered how he had thought she was pretty.

Sydney and Vaughn turned their heads towards the door as Jack Bristow entered. Vaughn visibly straightened but remained seated. Sydney smiled towards her father

"Dad. What are you doing here"

"Hello Sydney" he said, a small but genuine smile on display. "Micheal" he nodded the smile gone

"Jack" Agent Vaughn responded turning his head back towards Jake

"I received a call a few hours ago telling me I needed to interrogate a delinquent arrested earlier today. I did not realise it would be this one" Jack finished looking back at the occupant of the other room. "Nor did I think it would be this kind of interrogation"

"I think it's best if Sydney and I talk to him first" Vaughn stated ignoring Jack's last comment "I think we've freaked him out enough for now" he added trying to hide a lopsided smile

"I agree" Sydney said, both her and the older agent oblivious to Vaughn's knowing smirk

"Fine. Well if you get nothing from him, I'll talk to him. I'll bein my office should you need me"

Sydney scoffed quietly remembering the 'talks' he used to have with her when she was a kid. She hoped for Jake's sake he was going to be cooperative.

Jake was bored, or at least he was doing his damn best to try and look it. The starkness of the walls surrounding him was unnerving, and he secretly feared the amount of trouble he was in. It wasn't as if he hadn't been in trouble with the law before of course, but the CIA? This was big.

_The ominous sight of blue and red flashed against the door Taylor household. The distance hiss of a communication system rattled in the chill of the night air as a door opened revealing a well-built man and a sickly thin woman painted with confused and questioning expressions._

_"Mr and Mrs Taylor?" the officer asked already knowing the answer_

_"Yes?" the man huffed. The officer cocked his head to his partner standing by the patrol car who in response opened the door. The man in the doorway turned his head knowingly as the woman clicked her tongue, absorbing the image of their son being helped out of a car by a man in the blue uniform. "Jake" he whisper angrily under his breath as his son half staggered half marched towards his parents "What did he do this time?"Jake's father asked through clenched teeth_

_"Well Mr Taylor, that depends. Have you noticed anything missing in the past few hours, minus your son of course? Perhaps some car keys?" the police officer asked almost kindly_

_"And a car?" his partner deadpanned_

_"What-has-he done?" Jake's father asked once more, furiousness burning through his words._

_"Well, again that depends"_

_"How does is depend?" the woman's shrill voice questioned, interrupting the policeman, "How can it possibly depend? He's clearly done something," she hissed gesturing to her son with an outstretched arm. The officer noted how even in his inebriated state the boy flinched at his mother's harsh tone. A wave of worry coursed through him despite the disappointment he had felt in yet another teenage offender._

_"If you'll let me finish Madam. As I was saying it depends on whether you allowed your son to borrow your car. If you did give him permissionas well as allowing him to drink the alcohol he has clearly drunk on your property, his only offence would be DOI something we would only give him a warning for as he seems to be a first time offence and was on private property at the time. However," the mature officer continued "If you did not give him permission to drink alcohol or drive your car he will be arrested for underage drinking, joy riding and DOI, a combination that cannot and will not go overlooked"_

_"Dad" Jake hiccupped nodding his father's direction. He saluted his parents and stumbled back into the officers behind him_

_"I..." the father began_

_"Mr Taylor?"_

_"I gave him permission yes" The officer nodded knowingly_

_"I'm sure" the policeman signalled his partner who walked Jake to the door "Careful son!" he warned as Jake staggered backwards once more_

_"I'm sorry man" Jake slurred, slapping the officer on the back. The policeman believed him_

_"Just don't let me see you again"_

_"Thank you officer"_

_"Thank you officer" Jake's parents said almost in unison_

_"Thank you officer" Jake repeated in a sing songy voice. He frowned as he felt his father's hand snake round the back of his neck under the pretences of a fatherly gesture. He felt his dad's fingers pinch his skin, his nails digging in to the thin layer of muscle on the top of his shoulders, his teeth gritting with the anger he felt towards his child. The policemen missed him grab his son and manoeuvre him inside as they got into their car, only turning to see Mrs Taylor wave emptily from the door._

_She slammed the door behind her turning to her son. She watched indifferently as her husband smashed the back of his hand into their son's face causing a melancholy cry to escape him. Jake fell to the floor_

_"Get up" he stated watching his son try to regain his composure. Jake tried to stand but his arms couldn't support him and he fell to the ground "You're pathetic" his father hissed as he left the room. Jake looked up to his mother who shook her head sadly_

_"You have no one to blame but yourself Jake. No one." She too left her son. He was now alone in the hall, the midnight light drenching his body as he struggled to stand._

Jake remembered how it had all gone down hill from there. Before that night he was normal- what he would now consider boring. He used to get good grades at school and was relatively popular partaking in school sports and the occasional rally. He thought back to that day- his one mistake; his incentive in giving up. He was getting bored with everything in his life and after getting drunk thought it might be funny to drive his dad's car around the school football field and then home. That was the first time he had been in any serious trouble- the first time he had ever been arrested by the police. He remembered how he had hated his mother and father that night, their actions so contradictory to how he knew them. His parents were strict but fair and loving, but after the incident they showed him a side of themselves he never though existed.

From then on everything had been a downwards spiral. Even now he couldn't even put his finger on what had pushed him over the edge. He wasn't even sure there was a reason. He had attracted the attention from the wrong crowd at school, mindlessly following them to less than reputable college parties where he found drink and drugs. His parents didn't even show their anger anymore; they just left him to his own devices. They grew more and more distant and one day they just stopped speaking to him altogether. Even through the drugged haze he returned home in he still felt the bitter sting of his father's sickened stares and heard the vicious fights is parents had. But Jake didn't care anymore.

And then it happened. One day he just upped and left- no warning no note, nothing. They didn't even look for him. At first he was scared and alone, not really knowing what to do with himself. He considered going home a couple of times, but sleeping behind the bus station seemed so much more appealing. It was after the first few painful nights of independency he ran into Jed. Jed he had seen around at raves and the occasional street fight and knew had a high status in the world Jake had recently been introduced to. Jed took a liking to Jake and taught him the tricks of the trade so to speak- how to steal, hotwire cars, vandalize, how to mug. He had introduced him to substances he never even knew existed, assisting him into the murky colourless whirlpool of drugs, alcohol and felony. Every night brought a new rush, another thrill; the aptly named 'Brotherhood' was his family now, tales of who smoked or injected themselves with what replacing dinner conversation, brawls in place of family feuds, stealing the only form of income. As the weeks went on the crimes became more severe and the alcohol became stronger. The attitude was more flippant and the words more aggressive. Jake had become utterly lost to the world.

He had to admit this wasn't the way he had seen his life when he used to look into the future, but Jed and the guys helped him find himself. Who he was now was who he was meant to be. Right?

Jake was snapped from his thoughts as the two agents he recognised from earlier entered. They seemed calm and neutral as they sat opposite him. He was grateful his reflection wasn't the only thing now staring back at him.

"Well. If it isn't Mr. Mikey and Super Spy Sydney" Jake said sitting up in his chair, flicking his cigarette across the room. He leant forwards resting his forearms against the table

"Hello Jake"

"Hello Jake"


End file.
